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User blog:SophiaDescole13/Professor Layton and the Working Title - Chapter 1
I couldn't come up with a name for this story - sorree! Anyway, it begins with the current moment, then moves onto what happened, then what happened after the moment. It includes my OC, but her name won't be revealed until the next chapter. Enjoy. It was a change to relax, even when on the run. The chase has taken Victoria, Clive, Jean and I to Japan; Vicky and Clive had gone to a restaurant around the corner, while Jean and I reserved rooms at a hotel. He had stayed downstairs to use the payphone for whatever reason. Our room was plain, but clean and good quality. I sat on the bed closest to the open window so I could admire the strangely beautiful view of the bustling city. Cars driving up and down the roads, hundreds upon hundreds of people walking from work, children running in between them, desperate to get home from school, market stallers trying to auction off some items before packing up. No wonder I didn’t notice the sniper in one of the opposite windows of a derelict-looking shop across the street. '' ''He must have used a silencer, for I didn’t even hear the shot, nor see the bullet. The only evidence of his weapon even being fired was my side, which started staining my blue shirt red. I slowly collapsed sideways, grasping my side tightly in agony. Everything seemed to fade out to black. The chatter of the street turned fuzzy and inaudible. A voice behind me called my name in panic as I fainted. '' FIrst chapter! Descole entered the old man's office. The air was scented heavily with beeswax polish; the kind used on wooden furniture. Mighty glass windows stood in the further wall, letting the warm afternoon sunlight dance around the room. But there was no time to admire. Descole needed only one thing from the place, and he needed it ''fast. It was damn risky just infiltrating, and there was no gurantee that Reinel's gunmen wouldn't stakeout his location at any moment. Behind the oak desk in the corner, a wall-mounted glass cabinet hung. A glass cabinet filled with keys in every shade of metal imaginable. That's what I need, Descole thought. He sped across the room, trampling dirt into the woolen rug. Damn it. The key cabinet needs a bloody key. ''Typical. He gazed worringly around the room. A black marble statuette stood on the desk. Grabbing it without hesitation (Well, some for the thought that a massive smashing sound in Reinel's office would be ever so slightly suspicious), he forced the figurine into the glass panel. Success. The statue lay twisted and broken, looking very sorry for itself. There must have been about a hundred keys in there. And all unlabelled. Descole quicky groped them all downwards; there may have been no writted identification, but he knew the one he was looking for. A chunky silver Yale worn down over the years of service. He had barely picked it up when a security alarm went off. "Sh*t." He said out loud, stowing the key in his jacket pocket. Only one thing for it. Out the window. Descole had already smashed two possessions of Reinel's, why not make a third? Heaving up a solid mahogany coffee table, with all his might, he forced it against the single-glazed glass, breaking through easily and letting the table fall into the brambles outside. Up and across the roof seemed the safest option. In no way was a silly little alarm going to stop him completing his objective today. 'To Be Continued...'''